


Rosy Dawn of Young Love

by Oshun



Category: Alexander Trilogy - Mary Renault
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshun/pseuds/Oshun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written in response to Keiliss's request for a Hephaestion story. It's a ficlet. I would say this is probably AU of Mary Renault's young Alexander novel, <i>Fire From Heaven</i>, but I strongly believe it owes its existence to her (and a little bit to Homer, obviously). I refuse to apologize for the sap factor. I fell in love with Alexander and Hephaestion when I was just a kid myself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rosy Dawn of Young Love

It was no dawn of rosy fingers that teased Hephaestion into consciousness, but Alexander lighting the oil lamp next to the bed. Hephaestion had fallen asleep waiting in Alexander's bed. Now his dearest friend grinned down upon him, his breath sweet and fresh on his face. Alexander's lips had parted as though he had intended to kiss him just as Hephaestion's eyes flew open.

“I’d have thought you’d stay awake for me,” Alexander whispered.

“I didn't expect you to return for hours,” Hephaestion grumbled, trying to appear indifferent yet knowing full well that his face shone transparent with the joy of seeing him so soon. Alexander often drank too much when his father came to visit. If he didn’t come to bed flushed with wine and half-asleep, he might arrive cold and angry, wanting Hephaestion to warm him. Under most circumstances, Hephaestion waited to be invited before coming into Alexander's bed, but not when he believed that Alexander might need him whether he admitted it or not.

“I wonder if that is true," Alexander said, smirking unrepentantly. "That you had no expectations at all?” His loose golden mane gleamed even brighter in the lamplight in contrast to his sunburned skin. “Or, if not expectation, I suspect you had at least some hope or you wouldn’t have crawled into my bed and gone to sleep.”

Hephaestion considered whether he wanted most to tickle him or kiss him, but he did not have to decide. It was Alexander who reached for him and there was no denying Alexander when his breath came in desparate soft little huffs as it was doing and his limpid eyes were fixed on Hephaestion’s mouth. 

“May I kiss you?” Alexander asked, his tone melting into earnestness in an instant.

“That’s the silliest question you’ve ever asked. I’d die for you,” Hephaestion gasped, pulling him into a long kiss.

“I am well aware that I expect far too much of you," Alexander said, when they finally released each other for a moment. "I try to master my shameful greed by assuring myself that you gladly agree to it all.”

“Gladly is precisely correct. But I want more than one kiss.”

Alexander grinned wider, his tongue peaking through his lips in the most taunting manner. “I will give you everything you want. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

“I’ve only heard it from you.”

“That is because no one else dares to woo you. People think it though. Even tonight Philip dismissed me by saying, 'Go along now, son. Your beautiful Hephaestion is waiting for you.'”

§ § § §

Extraneous geekish self-indulgence: "Dawn of rosy fingers" is taken from Richard Lattimore's translation of _The Iliad_ , my favorite from my school days. Rosy-fingered dawn is more traditional. The picture is neither Hephaestion nor Alexander; I could not find one of either of them that was young enough to suit the story.

In case you are wondering, this ficlet is set during the period when they were being tutored by Aristotle together.


End file.
